By Debbie Cutler

My friends and I dance beneath starry nights
Arizona desert—earthy, dusty, herbal
Warmed by bonfire bright with flames
Heat against our backs
Long hair, fluid, like the music

Claps, cheers
To the beat of 8-tracks blaring
Pat Benatar, Stevie Nicks, Foreigner
Swing to “My Sharona,” “Bad Girls”
Rock with soul

Boys flirt with girls
Dressed in hip huggers, tight sweaters
Clogs, platforms, go go boots even
Swaying their stuff like a “Brick House”
Four corners to the wind

Kisses beneath saguaros and red yuccas
Howls at the moon
Breath thick with frost
Hardly aware of nocturnals
Scorpions, coyotes, rats, owls

Sing into the night
Brodies in the sand
Pricked by cactus
Joints pass hands
It’s all good

Police warn us
Week after week
We pile in backs of trucks
Drive down deserted roads
Never with consequence

About the Author

Debbie Cutler, a writer of more than 30 years, has been published in numerous mainstream and literary magazines, including Cirque, Wingless Dreamer, Journal of Expressive Writing, The Dewdrop, Pure Slush, Shanti Arts (Still Point Arts Quarterly), Sweetycat Press, The MockingOwl Roost, Prime, Of Rust and Glass, Paddler Press, Red Wolf Journal, Columbia Business Times, Editor and Publisher, Independent Living, Wanderlust, IHRAF Publishes, among others. She has a piece coming out in eMerge Magazine in 2023.